Wait For You
by o0MissBennet0o
Summary: Timing is everything. BB, R&R. Complete!
1. Synchrony

**A/N: Here I am with a new fic for you!!! This will be a short one, three chapters. Soon I will be posting my next chapter for "Pandora's box", and maybe a new one for "I hear the bells". Kisses, lovely people!!!**

**I got the whole plot idea from the song "Wait for you", by Nelly Furtado. It's a great song, the hindi beat is very sexy(maybe there could be some belly dancing in the future; who knows?), and the lyrics are wonderful. Listen to it while reading!!! It's worth the download!!!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Bones or the song.**

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**Chapter One: Synchrony**

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As the first beads of sunlight penetrated through the curtains, Temperance Brennan opened her eyes with a smile on her face. The warm spring morning made promises of a very enjoyable day, and she intended on making the most of it. Adjusting her eyes to the bright light she turned her body towards her nightstand, registering after a quick look at her alarm clock that it was only 7 in the morning. 

Pushing the sheets from her body she realized that the heat from the bed turned her skin a pale pinkish tone. Pressing her palms against her cheeks she noticed that her body was very warm. A cold shower was just what she needed.

Turning on her heels, she crossed her room and entered her bathroom. The light provided from the sun would aloud her to take her bath without turning on the lights. Opening the gauge she placed one hand under the water until she got the ideal temperature for her.

Opening the cabinet under her sink Brennan chose a body wash. Stripping herself off of her white silk camisole and panties she stepped into the shower, enjoying the fell of the cold water against her feverish skin. Closing her eyes she let the water wash her face, her hair, everywhere. She could literally feel the heat leaving her body.

Pouring the body wash on her sponge she gently rubbed it over her skin in soft circles, and the perfume pleasantly invaded her nostrils. After ridding herself of all the foam, she stepped out of the shower.

Finding her soft white towel on the usual spot she dried herself up slowly, taking her time to analyze her figure on the mirror, which wasn't steamed up because of the cold temperature of her bath water. Her skin was back in its pale tone, now sprinkled with the drops of water missed by the towel. Hanging her towel back in its place she turned to face the mirror, now with her body dry.

Inspecting her form she was pleased with what she saw. Brennan was a woman who knew how to keep her slim figure, and she was even more pleased to see that her skin was as fare as it was years ago. Time hadn't taken its toll on her. Wrapping a smaller towel around her wet hair she left the bathroom.

Walking over to her wardrobe she opened the doors and stared at the many clothes options after finding the lace underwear she wanted for the day. Deciding that the warm weather called for something lighter than her usual black pants and dark blouses she picked up a cream skirt and a brown top. From the back of her closet she found a pair of brown ballerina shoes she got from Angela. Never having worn them she decided it was time to give it a shot. It beat the hell out of her high heeled shoes right now.

While she rummaged through her jewelry box trying to find a necklace her phone began to ring. Finding the right accessory she picked it up and ran to her living room where she picked up the phone.

"Brennan," she answered, sensing that it was Angela on the other end trying to get her to ditch work and go shopping.

"Hey Bones," came the voice on the other end, and Brennan had to smile. _Booth._

"Hey, Booth. Do we have a case?" she asked, wondering why he was calling her so early.

"What? Can't call you unless we have a case?" he said faking hurt.

"I didn't say that. I was just wondering why you called," she said, smiling even wider.

"We don't have a case, thanks for asking. I just called to let you know I'll be dropping by the lab latter to get your signature on some files from the last case," he said.

"I'll be there," she said.

"I know you will," he said, and she could almost see his smile. _Workaholic woman, he must be thinking. _

"Bye Booth," she said, avoiding any tirade about her life.

"Bye Bones. See you latter," and with that she was left with the dial tone.

_And here we go again_, she thought. Another day of denial, of discreet stolen glances, another day of over rationalizing as they breaths mingled when they got too close.

Temperance Brennan was very dense when it came to the world. Sure, one may say that was true. But she also possessed a genius IQ, and with that no one could argue. Her mind was fast in its processing and the amount of information catalogued inside could bring anyone to a lower intelligence level. She was a genius. But she was also very curious. And that factor was essential on her quest for knowledge.

Seeley Booth was her most recent subject of study. He kept saying over and over again for her to keep her nose off his things. Saying that he was the one with the gut feeling, that he was the one supposed to read people. But how could she deny herself the pleasure of learning something new?

So Brennan learned everything she could so she could study him. His reactions, his eyes, his body language. And when she finally learned to read him she wasn't sure what she found. Every move, every look, every subtle touch indicated something she would only learn latter to call love. Sure, she thought at first, he's my partner and friend, of course he feels something for me. But she continued her study, and the more she learned, the less she could convince herself that it was only friendship.

Could he love her? Not yet. They didn't know each other enough for that, she told herself countless times. But then he would hug her when she was scared, or show up at her doorstep at the exact night she forgot to eat, and her mind screamed that she was in denial. And there was only one way to find out.

So she studied herself around him. She would catch herself staring at him when he wasn't looking, or she would mention his name in every conversation. She would smiled when he was around, trying to tell herself she did it for the perspective of a new case, but still she couldn't explain the cold she felt in the pit of her stomach.

When she saw him her whole body reacted. Her hands would get cold, her heart would beat faster, and her knees would get weak. Far from being a romantic babbling teenager she knew this was the effect of the release of hormones into her body.

Serotonin, dopamine, all being released into her bloodstream, making her euphoric, agitated, bold even. When she was high on them, she felt like she cold walk into his office and kiss him for hours without needing to explain herself. But those hormones were released for a reason, right? And even she couldn't deny that.

It wasn't a dramatic revelation. It was a very simple day at the lab where Brennan and Angela were both sitting in their chairs near one of the metal tables at the platform. Having nothing to do, they were talking about everything that came to mind. Hodgins and Zach were both very concentrated racing their beetles on the other table to hear anything they were talking.

"Come on Bren, you can't deny that," said Angela, half laughing.

"You know, I really hate that you know so much about my sex life," said Brennan pretending to be angry at the artist.

"Hey, it's not my fault if you have a lousy poker face. You know I always catch you when you lie. Good thing you learned to tell me everything before I rip it out of you," said Angela, shifting her body on the metal chair, "And talking about your sex life… It's been a while Bren," she smiled at the pouting face the anthropologist said.

"Unless you suggest a booty call with an ex is the answer for that, I can't do anything about it," said Brennan, crossing her arms, challenging Angela to say anything.

"Well…" at that moment her eyes caught the figure of Special Agent Seeley Booth crossing the glass doors of the Jeffersonian wearing one of his best suits, looking better than ever, "What about Booth? Don't you just want to push him against a wall and kiss him senseless?" asked Angela, her eyes bright, probably conjuring the other things she could do to leave him like that. There was no response from Brennan and for this Angela turned to face her friend. "Bren?" she called. No response. "Bren?" Angela called, a little louder this time. Brennan blinked twice before facing her friend, "Did you even hear me?"

"Sorry Ange. I got distracted," said Brennan, smiling a little.

"Okay then… I asked you if you wouldn't love to kiss Booth senseless?" asked the artist again, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively.

"That's silly," Brennan said in an almost whisper. Angela arched one eyebrow at her response. No "we're just partners", or "stop daydreaming", or even an anthropological lecture about why you can't kiss someone senseless. Just a simple and poor silly response. She waited to see if there was more coming, expecting Brennan to be warming up.

But Brennan didn't say anything else.

She didn't have more to say because right there, right then, she realized she couldn't say no to her question. She wanted nothing more than to kiss Booth at that moment, and she couldn't even lie to herself about that anymore.

That was her discovery, her life changing epiphany, her world-shattering revelation. And in that moment she realized the ground was still under her feet, and the sky was still above her head. The colors were as bright as they were before, and she didn't get the urge to jump on a plane with a one way ticket to Iemen. And that was okay for her.

Since that day, she felt lighter. She didn't have to make excuses for herself anymore for every flutter of her heart, and now she knew exactly why her stomach turned when he approached her. And she was comfortable with that knowledge. Booth on the other hand…

For someone who claimed to know how to read people he was pretty dense when it came to his partner's feelings. It wasn't as if he couldn't see that he had strong feelings for her, he knew that. But the fear gripping him tight, holding him on the ground kept him from doing anything. He was scare of his feeling and he feared that she was indifferent to him.

She knew he had a lot of demons to fight before he got his world-shattering revelation. And she would fight then with him whenever she got the chance to share the burden. He knew she was there, and he knew that she felt it too, and that was enough for him at the time.

Smiling to herself Brennan looked at the phone she still held in her hand. She would go to the lab, do some work and Booth would show up and joke around, smile with charm and drag her from the lab for cherry pie at the diner.

_Maybe today_, she thought hopefully. Maybe today would be the day. Maybe today he would see the different spark in her eyes, or maybe his heart beat would finally match hers, and he would finally be ready.

_Maybe_, she thought with a smile, dropping the towel from her hair as she finished getting ready for work.

Maybe. But it didn't matter, because if it didn't happen today, she would not give up or break down. She knew that the hardest things required patience to be achieved. And she could wait for him until the timing was right.

She would wait for him to be as ready as she was.

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**What do you think? Let me know and the next chapter could come a lot faster!!! (Yes, I´m blackmailing you, but I gotta say, a full inbox makes me write a lot faster!!!) One word, ten lines,it doesn't matter the size, just let me know what you think!**

**See ya!**


	2. Strange Reasoning

**A/N: Here it is, the new chapter. There is just one more, it should be up by the weekend. Again, this fic was inspired by the song "Wait for you" by Nelly Furtado (I love the indian beat!!!). **

**Disclaimer: Don't own Bones or the song.**

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**Chapter Two: Strange Reasoning**

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_Not __in a lifetime, that's more likely_, she thought again as she dropped the pen on her table. Sighing, she rested her face on her open palm, grateful for having cold hands.

Brennan got in her lab at the exact time she planned to. She always took pride in the way she kept her life neatly organized, maintaining her balance over the FBI cases, the Limbo remains and her writing. That balance was disturbed when she started working with Booth and it was gone the minute she realized she had feeling for him.

With the harmony broken she found herself lacking sleep because of hours spent writing until the sun came up. She would work on the Limbo remains at the weekends while most of her time was still occupied by the cases Booth brought.

_No use trying to write_, she thought as she closed the blank document, the cursor still mocking her with every blink it took. Her editor was not pleased, but she was even less. Her mind had no trouble working before. Now, everything was a reason for her to be distracted. Sighing again, only this time in frustration, she threw her pen across the room, landing on the couch.

In this particular Friday morning Angela was feeling good. The sun was bright, the wind was blowing softly, and the next day was Saturday, and she had every intention on spending her entire weekend in bed with Hodgins.

When she stepped through the glass door of the Jeffersonian the sterilized air swept over her, cooling her skin. It was a very good thing that the lab had air conditioning, because otherwise Angela would do her work sitting in the shadows at the garden behind the buildings. Gladly, her office was almost chilly every morning when she got there.

Dragging her flip-flops through the lab she almost tripped over a young man carrying a pile of files as she twisted her neck to make sure she wasn't seeing things.

Temperance Brennan was not someone who daydreamed. She was always alert, always focused on the task at hand. So it was very surprising for Angela to find her friend with her chin resting on her hands, her eyes dull and unfocused, staring at space.

"Scary," she murmured before stepping into the office, "Hey sweetie," she said from the doorway. Brennan didn't even move a muscle, didn't even blink. "Bren?" she called out, taking a step closer to the desk, "Bren?" she said louder, and the anthropologist jumped in her chair, her eyes wide, her hand flying to her chest, calming her still beating heart.

"Jeez Ange, ever heard of knocking?" said Brennan as she adjusted herself in her chair, looking for something to occupy her mind.

"Since when do you care if I knock? You never cared about that," said Angela, sitting herself in front of Brennan.

"Well, you scared me. I was distracted," said the anthropologist, still trying to look busy. Rolling the cursor in the screen of her computer she opened the same document she spent her morning staring at.

"That's just it. You don't do that. I have never seen someone getting the jump on you. You're always alert," said Angela. Brennan seemed uncomfortable in her chair, so Angela knew she was on the right track.

"I'm just tired, is that a crime?" said Brennan, trying to sound offended. If she had any hopes that a trick would work on Angela, the artist killed all of them.

"Don't give me the offended tone, I know you better than that. Now spill," said Angela, crossing her arms under her breasts.

"Spill what? I'm not holding anything," said Brennan, a look so innocent on her face that Angela had to fight the urge to slap her own forehead.

"It's an expression, honey. It means talk," she said, her smile genuine, "Something is obviously bothering you, you're not like yourself," Angela said, noticing the way Brennan was biting her bottom lip. _Good_, she thought, _she's considering telling me_.

The anthropologist looked up, studying her escapes routes. There were none. Angela was looking at her intently, her eyes piercing Brennan's. Blowing a long sigh, something she did a lot in the morning, her resolve melted away. It was now or never.

"Okay, but you have to promise me you won't scream or do anything like that," before Angela could get anything out of her already open mouth, Brennan lifted her hand, signaling her to stay silent while glaring at the artist, "I mean it Angela. One shriek and I'll kick you out of my office."

"Fine," said Angela, pouting like a five year old, "I'll be quiet. Cross my heart," she said, making a cross over her heart with her fingers.

"I don't know what that means," said Brennan, her brow furrowed in confusion.

_Give me strength God_, Angela thought as she rolled her eyes at Brennan, "Just spill, honey."

"Fine," Brennan said, getting up from her chair to sit beside Angela on the other chair in front of the desk, "A few months ago I realized something," she said, her eyes focusing on the glass table as if it was so interesting.

"Okay, what did you realize?" asked Angela. Brennan seemed to be backing away from her so she put a hand over her arm, a look of understanding on her face, "It's okay sweetie, you know you can tell me anything," her voice was as soft as cotton, and Brennan felt secure, protected.

"I…" somehow the words just wouldn't leave her mouth. It was best if she did this like ripping off a band-aid, "I'm in love with Booth. There, I said it," saying this was hard, but after it was out there, Brennan felt lighter than a feather. Looking at Angela she fought the urge to laugh at how hard the artist was pressing her lips together, "Fine Ange, one squeal."

And at that Angela squealed, jumping up and down, "Finally! It's not news for anyone, but to hear you admitted, that's just… Finally!" she said, while doing what Brennan assumed was her victory dance. When the artist stopped jumping and sat on the chair again, her cheeks were flushed and her face was glistening with sweat.

"Are you done?" asked Brennan, the corners of her lips arched up in a discreet smile.

"Yes," Angela said, putting her hands on her lap to show herself as a good girl, "Go on."

"Thank you. So where was I?"

"You were saying that you love Booth, and that you want to marry him and have his babies," said Angela, earning a slap in the arm, "Right, shutting up."

"As I was saying, it happened a few weeks ago. I realized that I had these feelings for him," Brennan said, avoiding Angela's eyes.

"But you haven't done anything about it?" asked Angela. Brennan wasn't usually shy when it came to men. If anything, her friend was always too blunt.

"Well… it was something Booth told me once. He said that everything happens eventually. He said that I had to give it time, that I had to be ready. So… here I am, waiting," she said as she sat back on her chair.

"Waiting for what?" asked Angela confused. Wait for what? They took two years to get to this point, how could they need more time?

"He's not ready Angela. I know Booth. Every time I bring something like this up, he gets uncomfortable and defensive. He's not ready, but I'll wait," Brennan said, her voice so soft that Angela felt a pang of sadness in her heart. For how long would she wait?

"Okay sweetie, just answer one thing. For how long do you plan on waiting? Because I don't want to see you trapped in this platonic affair for too long. You have to live your own life."

"I know Ange, but for now I can wait a bit longer. I'm a patience woman, and he's worth it, isn't he?" there was a glint in her eyes that Angela never saw before, and that glint made her smile.

"He is sweetie, but don't wait too long, okay?" upon receiving her nod, she continued, "So, how do you know he's not ready? I mean, not to offend or anything, but you're not good at reading people."

"But I am good at reading Booth. Besides, he said something that makes that fact crystal clear even for someone bad with people," said Brennan, letting out a small chuckle.

"What did he say?" asked Angela, her curiosity peaking.

"He said he never had a relationship like this," Brennan said.

"But that's cute, and very sweet," said Angela, not really understanding why that would prove anything.

"He said that's because he thinks we're like two guys, except I'm not a guy," Brennan said, fully registering Angela's shocked expression.

"He said you're like a guy to him?" a little bit more and her jaw would touch the ground. At Brennan's affirmative nod, Angela started laughing, "Is he insane or just not so bright? How can you tell an attractive woman like you that you consider her to be like a guy? That's just stupid."

"I told him that, if I followed his reasoning, then he was essentially a woman to me," said Brennan, a malicious smile on her face. Angela started laughing again.

"Nice one, Bren. Besides, if he thinks of you as a guy, than I hate to be the one to say this, but he's gay," and at that they burst out laughing.

"What are you two talking about?" a voice came from the doorway and both turned to be greeted with the image of a casual looking Seeley Booth. Wearing a black T-shirt that said "Give me my space" and a pair of faded jeans, he looked better than ever with his boyish smile.

"Just guy's stuff," said Angela. Brennan laughed harder while Booth just looked completely confused.

"Okay," he figured it was best to just let it go; Angela had a tendency to say the most strange things, "So how are you two lovely ladies doing today?" he threw in the charm smile that he knew made hearts melt.

"We're just talking," said Angela, her voice casual as she turned on the chair, "So what are you up to this Friday? Big date?" she asked, and Brennan almost chocked on her own saliva.

_Smooth_, Brennan thought, _very smooth_.

"No date. Just me and my television," Angela smiled even wider; he looked like a lost puppy, begging for shelter.

"Why don't you go out with us? We were planning on going to this new club," said Angela, excited.

"We were?" asked Brennan innocently.

"Yes, we were, remember?" said Angela, her eyes wide and bright, trying her best to get her message through.

"Right, I forgot. The club," even thought she had no idea of what Angela was talking about, Brennan just decided to trust her friend. She knew what she was doing, or at least she hoped she did.

"Are you sure? 'Cause I don't want to intrude on a girl's night out," said Booth, rocking back and forth on his heels, his hands shoved inside his pockets.

"I'm sure; it's not a girl's night out. Jack and Zach are coming too, and so is Cam. Come on, it'll be fun," she was pouting now. Booth looked from her to Brennan as if getting permission.

"You really should come with us, Booth. Have a night out with us squints," Brennan said. At her words the smile on Booth's face got impossibly wide.

"Okay then. Where do we meet?" he asked, rubbing his hands together, "And where are we going?"

"It's a new Indian club that opened up downtown. It's pretty exclusive, but Jack and Brennan can always get us in," Angela didn't even tried to hide her excitement.

"That's true," Booth smiled. Brennan could always get into VIP places with her famous status, and Jack was just richer than God.

"Okay, so you can meet us at 8 by the club. It's at 1350, Okie Street. You'll find it easily," said Angela.

"Then I'll be on my way. Just came by to drop these," and saying that he placed the files he was holding on Brennan's desk, "I'll see you latter," sending Brennan a very warm smile Booth turned his back and walked out of the office.

"I gotta say Bren, I don't know what is better; to watch him come or go, 'cause they both provide such great views," Angela was almost falling off her chair to admire Booth's retrieving back. Brennan laughed as she threw a piece of crumbled paper at the artist.

"Have I ever told you that you're not a very subtle person?" asked Brennan.

"What? I did that for you. You need to get your man, I just gave a little nudge," for the look of innocence in Angela's face you could actually believe that she was being serious, but Brennan knew better.

"And what club is this? You know what happened last time we went to one," said Brennan, her tone serious now.

"Don't remind me. I can still fell the headache. It's a club I found. I was actually going to ask you to go with me," said Angela.

"Why? You know I'm not very good in these places," self-consciously she started to play with the hem of her top.

"The name of the club is Garbha." _Bingo_, she thought as she saw Brennan's head snap up.

"That is very interesting," Brennan said, her smile never betraying her new found excitement.

"I thought so too. I knew you would like it. They have clothes there for us, so you only have to worry about the hair and make-up."

"They have clothes there?" _That's odd_, she thought.

"That's why it's so exclusive. You can dress up in a silk sari and learn the real Indian moves," Angela smiled at Brennan mischievously, "Not that you need to learn anything."

"That is really interesting. The boys won't like the whole costume idea though," Brennan said. At that Angela got up from her chair so quickly she got dizzy, "Are you okay Ange?" asked Brennan.

"Yeah, I just remembered that I have something to do," said the artist as she straiten herself up, prepared to leave the office.

"What?"

"Well, now I have to convince Jack, Zach and Cam to go with us, then I have to pester Jack to get us in" and out the door she went, "Love your guts sweetie, doing this for you" and she was gone.

What would Brennan do without Angela?

Sitting herself back at her chair in front of her computer Brennan couldn't fight the smile on her face. That night promised to be very interesting.

Looking at the screen she clicked on the open document and was pleased to see her fingers typing away, her mind finally unblocked.

_Maybe today_, she thought as she typed, _maybe_.

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**Just one more chapter, people, so hang in there. As I always say, reviews makes me write faster, so leave me your opinion, your ideas, tell me what you want to see next!!! Any thoughts on the Indian club?**

**Kisses...**


	3. Hindi Beat

**A/N: This is the last chapter for the fic. I enjoyed writting it, and I hope you enjoy reading it!! **

**Congradulations to Queen Isabella for guessing where the Garbha scene was coming from!!!I love the movie Bride and Prejudice, and that scence is one of my favorites. That is where I got the idea for this chapter, and I tried as hard as I could to describe the dance, but it's really hard. If you want to see how it is, rent the movie, I promisse you'll love it!!! **

**I used the song "Dolla Dolla", from the soundtrack of the movie to inspire me. It's the song that plays at the dance scene, and I think you'll love it!!!**

**Disclaimer: Don't own Bones or the song.**

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**Chapter Three: Hindi Beat**

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_You have got to be kidding me_, was the first thought that came to Booth's mind as he fought the urge to shoot the much smaller guy standing in front of him, handling him what he presumed was the clothes he was supposed to put on. _I'm going to kill Angela,_ was the second thing that came to his mind as he gave the man a deadly glare before turning to the dressing room. 

After leaving the Jeffersonian that day Booth actually felt pretty good. Having plans to go out dancing always left him in a good mood, even if he had no intention on going to the dance floor. The first thing that went wrong was when his boss told him he needed some reports in his desk before the day ended. Since those reports weren't ready, Booth had to call Angela and let her know that he would be late.

Arranging for him to let through at the door of the club, Booth buried himself in the very dull paperwork, counting the hours until he could finally get out of there. After leaving the report in Cullen's desk, Booth hurried to his house for a quick shower and a change of clothes. Realizing that his shower was broken, he swore the entire time he had to endure under the cold water. _What a hell_, he said as he dressed himself latter with a pair of jeans and a black T-shirt.

Arriving at the address Angela gave, he checked the paper on his hand twice before coming up to the bouncer. Upon saying his name the bouncer let him through, causing a commotion amongst the people waiting in line. A very small man stopped him as he prepared to enter what he supposed was the club area.

"Sir, first I need to write down your name and also, I need to give you your clothes," he said, standing behind a very small desk with a computer over it.

"The name thing is okay, but what's with the clothes?" Booth asked, handling the man his ID card.

"Everyone is required to wear the traditional clothes, sir," said the man, and Booth furrowed his brow as he got his ID back.

"What traditional clothes?" he asked, and the man stepped inside a room behind him, coming out with a plastic bag holding something white.

"You can change in there," the man said, pointing to a door behind Booth, "And here is your pair of sticks," the man said, giving Booth a pair of colored wood sticks the size of his forearm. Suspicious, Booth tore the plastic bag open, removing a pair of white cotton pants, a long white cotton shirt and a vest, also white.

"You're telling me I have to wear this so I can get inside?" his fingers twitched to throttle the man.

"It's our policy, sir. We believe it to enhance the experience. After you're done changing, you can put your clothes inside the bag and then you just put it in the locker number 10," smirking at Booth he quickly made his way inside the club area, but not before calling out, "You have to leave the shoes in the locker too," and he was gone.

So now he was inside the dressing room, taking off his jeans so he could put on the white pants. He was not satisfied to see that the waist had no elastic or zippers, only a string that he tied as hard as he could, fearing the prospect of loosing his pants on the dance floor.

Pulling his shirt over his head he crumbled it into a ball and threw it on the plastic bag along with his jeans. After putting on the cotton shirt he gave himself a once over in the mirror. _Great_, he thought, _I look like a monk. _

Putting on the vest he left the dressing room and directed himself in the direction of the lockers he saw before. Throwing his plastic bag inside along with his shoes he closed the door, turning his back as he grabbed the pair of sticks from the desk and finally walked towards the entrance of the club area.

_And it just keeps getting better_, he thought as he scanned the room. The club area was to him more like a tent, orange and yellow coloring the room into a bright place. He felt sand beneath his feat, wiggling between his toes. A big circle was around what he supposed was an altar, and several images were displayed there.

On the corner his eyes caught sight of a bar, the yellow lights illuminating the counter. Contrary to most clubs, the room was brightly illuminated, and Booth could distinguish the faces of many different people.

He could hear the Hindi beat blasting through the speakers; the sensual sound of the drums mixed with the sitar only adding to the place's exotic style. Despite the song playing, no-one was dancing, and Booth figured that he got there earlier than he thought.

"Booth," a voice called behind him and Booth turned, greeted by the sight of Angela. She was wearing a red silk sari, the skirt so long that it covered her feet. Her hair was tied back, and she had dark make up along with gold earrings and bracelets.

"You said this was a club," Booth said, his tone menacing. Hodgins and Zach stepped behind Angela, both wearing white cotton shirts and pants, along with brown vests.

"I did, and I also said that it was very exclusive. This is why; how many clubs do you know that has traditional clothes to be worn?" she said, punctuating her point by placing her hands on her hips in a very Brennan manner.

"You could have told me," he said, watching as Cam stepped beside Zach, wearing a very similar sari, only hers was black.

"Would you have come if I did?" Angela asked.

"No," he answered quickly.

"My point exactly. I had good intentions by keeping this information from you," she said with a disarming smile.

"Right," he said with a chuckle, "What's with the dot thing?" Booth asked, pointing to her forehead.

"It's called bindi, and it's an ornamental dot, used in celebrations and special occasions by Indian women," Angela was sounding a lot like Brennan that day.

"Whatever, and you sound too much like Bones. Where is she, anyway?"

"She's around, talking to an old friend," said Hodgins, receiving a glare from Booth, "Apparently they've known each other over years."

"She met him in India four years ago. He actually owns this place, that's how we all got in," Angela was amused to see Booth searching the crowd for his partner, his jaw tight and his shoulders tense.

And as if knowing where she was Booth located Brennan across the room, talking to a tall man. His features showed that, without a doubt, he was Indian. His skin was tanned, his hair curly and dark as was his eyes.

Brennan had her back to him, but Booth could recognize her anywhere. Her silk sari was blue, the deep color contrasting with the pale tone of her skin. From where he stood he could see the perfect silhouette of her waist, her curves exposed from the line under her breasts to her hips, where her flowing skirt hung dangerously low. He was mesmerized by the curve of her waist and her flawless porcelain skin.

When she turned Booth he could see that she also wore gold earrings and bracelets. Her eyes were lined by the dark make up, and the deep blue tone of her sari matched her deep blue orbs. On her forehead, Booth could see a blue dot sparkling against the light, and like Angela, her hair was pulled back. She smiled at him, coming closer with each step, on her hands a pair of sticks like the ones he was holding.

"Hey Booth. I'm glad you came," she noticed his eyes were narrow, and immediately she knew he was feeling threatened by the outsider, "Booth, this is my friend Ramesh. Ramesh, this is my partner and friend Seeley Booth." She gestured between the two of them, and Booth was pleasantly surprised to hear her introducing him as friend, and not just partner.

"Namaste," said Ramesh, and Booth was confused.

"It means hello, Booth," said Brennan, smiling at him.

"Oh, okay. Right back at ya," said Booth, embarrassed, "So how did you two meet?" his tone was pleasant, but inside, he just wanted to get the guy away from her.

"We met four years ago on my trip to India; we bumped into each other on the market and we just started talking," Brennan said.

"More like argued," corrected Ramesh with a thick Indian accent. Booth saw a patter there. He knew she argued a lot with Michael, and had a relationship with him. Did this mean that she slept with this guy? He really didn't want to know.

"I can't help with I'm usually right," Brennan said in a smug tone. At that instant, the music changed to a more cheerful beat.

"The dancing will begging," said Ramesh, turning to Brennan, "Care to join me?" he said, taking her hand in his.

"Sure. Are you guys coming?" she asked her friends, and they all had blank stares, especially Booth, whom was still trying to find out why he was holding those damn sticks.

"I think we'll wait for free style. Can't work with these," Angela said, gesturing to the sticks on her hands, "You'll teach me some day and then we'll come back."

"Are you sure?" Brennan asked, and upon receiving a nod from Angela se turned, walking beside Ramesh until they positioned themselves on the slowly growing circle. The women stood inside the circle, the men facing them.

"What are they doing?" asked Booth, coming closer to Angela.

"They're preparing to dance. It's very cool, just watch," she said, and another song began to play.

And as the first beats of the drum began, they started to move. Ramesh kneeled, hitting his sticks together as Brennan did the same while standing. And they spun around, hitting each other's sticks in the rhythm of the music. Every time the drum echoed through the room, they hit their sticks together in synch.

The couples started to spin around each other, and the women hit their crossed sticks with the men beside her. And the couples began to circle around the altar, jumping and hitting their sticks above their heads, in front of themselves, hitting it with their partners.

Not being one to find himself searching over other cultures Booth was transfixed by the dance. The precision of the choreography, the rhythmic beat of the sticks along with the drums was truly fascinating.

As the couples circled the altar, they stopped, and the women and men turned on their sides. Booth watched as Brennan hit her sticks together on the line of her hips, snapping them along with the beat of the drum. And then she turned on her other side, snapping and snaking her hips again as she hit the sticks above her head, laughing loudly as she danced, making the same movements as before.

Turning to face Ramesh as all the other women followed the same move, Brennan hit her sticks with his, changing their positions as the women came to the outside of the circle. Again, they made the same movement, and they continued to dance until the circle began to move again in the same motion as before.

Ramesh took Brennan's hand in his, and they circled each other, hitting their sticks together above their heads. And as the drums got lower, everyone lowered themselves to the floor, hitting their sticks loudly while the drums got louder and then the dancers began to rise slowly.

And the music got louder and faster as they circled the altar and themselves, hitting their sticks together in frenzy. The beat was very fast, and the couples circled the altar back and forth, hitting the sticks above their heads until it final hit came, and everyone clapped as the song ended.

Brennan was laughing hard with Ramesh, the adrenaline pumping through her veins as a slow sexy beat started to play and the light were turned from the bright yellow to a deep blue.

"I really didn't know that Dr Brennan could dance like that," said Cam, having watched the entire dance with amazement.

"Me neither," said Booth, his eyes still on his partner.

"I knew," said Angela and all four sets of eyes landed on her, "What? I'm her best friend. Besides, do you really believe that I would hear about her trip to India without questioning her on acquired skills?"

"I didn't imagine that was one of her skills," said Booth, and just then his eyes narrowed again. On the dance floor, Booth watched as Ramesh circled Brennan's hips with his hands, leading her through the sexy beat, "No way," he said before handling Angela his sticks and going on Brennan's direction.

Angela watched highly amused as Booth made his way over to his partner, "Ange?" Hodgins asked, standing beside her with an arm around her waist.

"Yes?" she called, her eyes never leaving the FBI agent.

"Did you tell Booth that Ramesh is gay?" asked the entomologist, knowing the answer but insisting on voicing his doubt.

"Now why would I do that?" she asked, her eyes twinkling dangerously.

Booth approached the couple they began to sway to the music. "Mind if I cut in?" he asked after getting Ramesh's attention with a tap on the shoulder.

"Sure," he said as he stepped away from Brennan. She continued to dance, not minding the interruption, or even acknowledging it. Her hands slid over her stomach, over her accentuated curves as her spine snaked, her hips snapping in the slow sexy beat of the sitar playing.

Coming closer, Booth took a chance and slowly embraced her, his arms around her waist, his hands across her stomach as he pulled her body closer to him, pressing her firmly against his chest. She knew it was him, his scent invading her nostrils, the masculine raw essence that she knew so well.

Not fighting the contact she enjoyed the warmth coming from him as she continued to move in the sensual rhythm of the song, his breath hot against her skin, making her weak, leaving her wanting more. She slowly leaned back, her head against his shoulder as his breath was now on her neck, her skin on fire against his palms.

As her arms stilled, she brought them up and wrapped them around his neck, bringing his head closer to hers until she felt his lips against her ear, teasing her flesh. She parted her lips, watching him in the blue light, his eyes darkened by a deep, dangerous desire, and the line they weren't supposed to cross suddenly faded. The only barrier between them was the small space separating their lips.

He was overwhelmed by how much he wanted to erase the space between them. His entire body ached for her, and his mind was spinning with her scent, her warmth against him. Watching her through heavy lids, her lips where parted and her eyes were closer, her body swaying against his hips in a slow motion, and he was very much aware of his desire.

Her breathing grew heavier as she felt his face coming closer to hers, and she parted her lips wider to welcome him, her body aching to taste him. He was just a few inches from her when she felt him tense, his body rigid against hers as he dropped his arms. Confused, she felt him back away from her and so she turned, looking at him in the blue light.

"What's wrong?" she asked; her voice so sweet and uncertain that he closed his eyes momentarily before looking at her again.

"I just remembered that I... I have an early meeting tomorrow, so… I gotta go," he said, coming close to her as he dropped a quick kiss on her cheek, turning to leave without even glancing back.

Everything Booth felt while being so close to Brennan was too much, and he was overwhelmed, loosing his breath when his heart squeezed inside his chest. He had to leave, he knew that. The path this night could take was something he wasn't ready for, and so he had to leave her there, even if it hurt.

She stood in the middle of the floor for a while, her confusion slowly turning into sadness as she watched the path he took to leave. Everything was going so well, and then he pushed her away, ripping the comfort she felt for a few minutes. Her heart began to beat slower, and she began to feel the cold air from the room against her feverish skin.

She fought back the urge to cry, angry at herself for being weak. Not being one to give up so easily, she knew there would be more moments like this before he finally allowed themselves to feel all they could feel.

She was a patient woman, but that didn't make it hurt any less. Every time he pushed her away was one more time she had to collect herself to be there in the next day, smiling as she tried to win his heart for good.

Running her fingers through her hair, she tried to regain her spirit in order to go back to her friends. Angela was looking at her, her eyes showing the care and worry she felt. And Brennan was grateful for telling her friend everything she felt about Booth. Now she had someone to talk to, and Angela would keep her from falling down.

Biting her lower lip to keep it from trembling, she smoothed her skirt before dragging her feet through the sand, a sad smile on her face as she met her friends.

Booth wanted her just as bad as she wanted him, and she still had hopes that one day, he would finally say every word she wanted to hear. Until them, she would be his friend, laughing and bickering while suffering in silence. After all, waiting for Seeley Booth was proving to be harder than she thought.

* * *

**I know you want to kill me right now (believe me, I know), but the story ain't over yet. The first chapter for the sequel is ready, but I'm holding it hostage until I get some reviews!!! The sequel is called "Get away" and it'll have three or four chapter (all being written as I post this). So leave me a review and tell me what you want to see happening in the sequel (besides Booth and Brennan finally getting together)!!!**


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